Gaga over Vazaha

I recently spent some time in the Antananarivo airport here in Madagascar on my way to Cape Town, South Africa. While sitting in the airport cafe, I found myself eavesdropping on a family seated at the table next to me. The conversation itself was dull but they were speaking English. I found myself rather embarrassed at how intrigued and awestruck I was. It wasn't until that moment that I realized just how living in the countrysides of Madagascar has affected me. There were things that I had been conscious of previously, such as trying not to shovel food into my mouth with my spoon (the Malagasy utensil of choice) and saying very direct (and perhaps rude) things. Now, after weeks of speaking strictly Malagasy at a time, I find myself drawn to anyone speaking English. Chances are that I probably don't know them nor will I jump into the conversation, it's just nice to listen and actually understand the words being spoken, jokes and all. And if per chance, the English speakers are American, then it's like hitting the jackpot! I had hoped that my consciousness of these behaviors would help me to avoid falling victim to them. I now have a new one to add to the list, which should help me from becoming gaga the next time that I see a vazaha (foreigner)...

In Love...

I am in love. With Cape Town, South Africa. Earlier this month I met my dear friend Steph there for a wedding. (Steph, who is currently living in London, is friends with a lovely South African couple there, Shaun & Lynn. She was invited to return home with them for their wedding and since I'm relatively close, geographically speaking, I accompanied her as her date.) Upon arrival Lynn, Shaun and Steph took me to McDonalds knowing that no such place exists here in Madagascar. (Funny side note: the Happy Meal toys were for the movie Madagascar 2: Escape to Africa.) And so began my love affair with Cape Town.

Everything during my week there took my breath away. The landscape, the food, the people...Imagine beaches with clear blue waters with a backdrop of towering rocky mountains. I was lucky enough to experience traditional South African braai, twice! Braai is a slow roasting/grilling of meat similar to an American barbeque. I ate enough chicken, ribs, and sausage to last me the entire month of December, partly because I don't cook meat in Madagascar (so I had to take advantage) and partly due to the absolute deliciousness. Actually, it became a game of sorts: feed the poor girl who has been living off of rice for the past 10 months. The seafood, chocolate, wine and Rooiboos tea were the most memorable. Oh and toast. I know that last one sounds rather odd but sliced bread and toasters are novelties on this island. In Madagascar I have been eating mainly for sustenance, as opposed to taste, so I would like to thank everyone who reintroduced me to delicious food while I was in Cape Town.

Amongst the toursity spots we saw, Cape Point and Table Mountain National Park were perhaps my favorite. There lies the Cape of Good Hope, as well as the point where the Indian and Atlantic Oceans meet. It was also interesting to see the penguins who reside on the beach in Simonstown and the baboons hanging out on the side of the road. I now agree with those who say that Cape Town is one of the most beautiful places on earth.
Steph and I at the lighthouse at Table Mountain National Park.
Cape Point, where the two oceans meet.
Baboons hanging out on the side of the road.

Perhaps the most memorable part of my trip was the people that I had the opportunity to meet. The beautiful bride, Lynn, and the gracious groom, Shaun, were kind enough to open their homes, act as tour guides (even amongst final wedding preparations!), and allow me to partake in their special day. They are truly amazing people and make a wonderful couple. I wish them the very best in their new life as husband and wife. I owe the world to Tony, Joan & Michelle Blackburn for their unbelievable hospitality. My trip simply wouldn't have been the same without them. It was interesting to talk to them about their views on development, especially after living and working in Madagascar for nearly a year now. I would also like to thank the Cloete family-to the Cloete boys for their charming company and to Mr. Cloete for arranging a place for me to stay in Johannesburg so I didn't have to sleep in the airport on my way back. On a sad note, I would like to send my condolences to the Blackburn family. Mr. Blackburn passed away last week, just days after his son's wedding. He was a great man who knew how to make a mean cup of Rooibos tea and who you could always count on for a laugh. I feel priveleged to have met him. My thoughts and prayers are with the Blackburns.

Overall my trip was amazing. One might not consider mainland Africa as a getaway but it was all that and more for me. In fact, if things don't work out here in Madagascar, I think I'll run away to Cape Town...

A visit to the Rhodes Memorial.

Photo-op during our drive through the mountains.

Shaun & Lynn cutting the cake.

The U.S. Election...from Madagascar

On November 4th, 2008, I was lucky enough to be in Antananarivo, the capital of Madagascar, for the U.S. presidential election. The U.S. Ambassador to Madagascar invited the Peace Corps Volunteers that were in town, along with many other Americans and Malagasy, to his house to watch the election results via satellite t.v. His palatial estate was decked out with any and all election memorabilia you could think of, including life size cut-outs of both presidential candidates.

There was also a nice breakfast, which us poor PCVs appreciated. The event started at 5 a.m., since Madagascar is 8 hours ahead of Eastern Time in the States. We learned that Barrack Obama won enough votes to become the president elect of the United States of America around 7 a.m. I found McCain's concession speech to be well-spoken and handled with grace and Obama's to be downright moving. Many of the Peace Corps Volunteers were in tears!



Although I sometimes find myself wishing that I could be in the States right now to witness these exciting times, I have found experiencing the presidential election from Madagascar to be memorable as well. Many of the Malagasy people were surprisingly in the know about the election. I say surprisingly because the only news I can get is BBC, sporadically, on my shortwave radio. After the results came in, there were as many Malagasy cheering as there were Americans. Not only is Obama bringing hope to Americans, he is bringing hope to the most remote corners of the world.

English Speaker Extraordinaire

When you grow up having something your whole life, you often don't realize what you've got. Things like refrigerators, cars, even indoor heating. In my countryside town in Madagascar, those things are extravagant luxuries. (Although indoor heating only exists in the form of adding more blankets in this country.) If you have a refrigerator and the generator needed to run it for a few hours a day, or a car and the money to buy gas, then you have something that everyone else strives for. (That being said, I have learned that many things that say "refrigerate after opening" can actually be eaten without being refrigerated and won't make you sick.) While some Malagasy people yearn for a car and others for a generator, there is one thing that everyone wants: the ability to speak English.

Even after gaining independence from France in 1960, the Malagasy have continued to learn the French language. Not until recently (around 2006) was English made a national language. The face that there aren't many English speaking tourists or other arenas to practice their English speaking skills has had no effect on their desire to learn the English language. So in my town, rather than being known as the Peace Corps Volunteer or the foreigner that can teach us about business, I am known as the English speaker extraordinaire. I've had at least 3 times as many requests for English lessons as I have had for anything business related. Part of my role as English speaker extraordinaire is being a translator and foreign money connoisseur. People bring me manuals, beauty products, anything printed in English really, and ask me to tell them what it means in Malagasy. These are often not American items, but rather, things made in China with directions in both Chinese and English. So I try my best to explain that you must leave the conditioner in for 3 minutes, rinse and repeat if necessary. Then there is the phenomenon of foreign money. I call it a phenomenon because I'm really not sure where it comes from, but I've seen European cents, French francs, even Korean won. Just yesterday a woman brought me what she believed to be "vingt dollars"-a twenty dollar bill. It was a twenty dollar bill alright, with the words "play money" printed across the front. I realize that many people show me the foreign currency in hopes that I will buy it from them, giving them the Malagasy equivalent, something that they can actually use. Sadly, such is often not the case. While I have no need for francs or play money, I did purchase the won just because it makes for an interesting story. I envision someone asking me "Hey, where'd you get that Korean money?" to which I'd reply "Oh, you know, in Madagascar."

Blankie

When I was born, my parents had a special blanket for me. While I wasn't one of the kids that carried it everywhere with me, I did sleep with it every night. That blanket made me feel safe and when my room was dark and I was alone for the night, it helped me fall asleep. I have found a new blankie here in Madagascar-my mesquito net. Peace Corps issues each Volunteer a mesquito net to help prevent malaria. I never would have imagined that it would bring me so much comfort. When I'm lying in my bed at night, in a room where a candle provides the only light, ten thousand miles away from home, I feel safe under the mesquito net. Sure, there may be huge cockroaches, rats, and malaria mesquitos roaming around but for some reason I feel confident that this thin layer of mesh will keep me out of harms way. I also often smile when I think about it because I remember when my younger sister, Kady, used to have one hanging above her bed for decoration. Back then I never would have imagined that one day I would be using one for its intended purpose. But then again I never really thought I'd be living in Africa either. It's funny the paths we choose to take and where we end up but I'm glad that my path has led me to Madagascar.

A Little Malagasy Culture

What’s in a name?
The names of towns and villages in Madagascar all have meanings associated with them. Some of them are obvious, like “lots of milk” (Beronono) in a region where there are many cows and “good sun” (Tsaramasoandro) in a place where it is hot and sunny all year round. My town is literally “to make replacement,” although I’m not sure what they were (or are?) aiming at replacing. One thing is for sure, I’m glad that I don’t live in Bevoalavo (“many rats”) or Arivomamo (“a thousand drunks”)!

How much?
The Malagasy people have a backwards number system/way of counting. Literally. Sure the French made counting harder than need be (90 = four 20s + 10) but at least the numbers are spoken from left to right. The Malagasy, on the other hand, say their numbers backwards. Fifty three is spoken as three fifty. Sounds difficult huh? Just imagine the larger numbers! 14,780? You must say: eighty and seven hundred and four thousand and one ten thousand. Although I have gotten better at mastering the numbers, I must admit that my first few trips to the market ended with me giving the vendor more than enough money and just waiting for the change, simply to avoid the confusion that is known as the Malagasy number system.

Carbs? Yes please!
Rice is the staple food in Madagascar. It is consumed three times a day, with various side dishes such as bean or vegetables. Rice served with spaghetti was not an uncommon meal served by my host family during training. And to truly express their love of carbs, cassava or manioc is regularly eaten as a snack between meals. While I realize that these foods are consumed to simply fill the stomach and help one feel full, I would like to try and teach about the importance of a balanced meal as a secondary project. Meat is not an option for many families because of the price but there are other options available that will also provide more nutrients.

There is plenty of meat, but unfortunately not plenty of money.

Where there is no doctor
Here is some common Malagasy medical advice, just in case any of you are sick in the near future:
-don’t eat cucumbers when you’re sick (because they’re cold)
-don’t eat peanuts if you have a cough
-eat carrots after you throw up
-drink tea with lots of sugar when you have a sore throat
-rub crushed chalk on the outside of your ear when you have an ear infection
Some of these should be taken with a grain of salt given the source (an 11-year-old child in some cases) but might provide some relief!

Sasa, the China Face

In Madagascar, I am known as Sasa, which also happens to be a form of the Malagasy verb “to wash” and, when shouted, sounds very much like vazaha (which means foreigner). This is because most Malagasy people, much like some young American children, cannot pronounce the “sh” sound. I actually somewhat prefer Sasa to the other name that I am often called: China Face (tarehy chinois). As many of you know, I am half Korean (my mom came to the U.S. from Seoul for college) and half American (my dad’s heritage is English and Irish). Despite having lived in the U.S. for the entirety of my life, and even referring to myself as a “twinkie” (yellow on the outside, white on the inside), the Malagasy people cannot seem to see past my Asian features. A typical conversation, especially in rural Madagascar, goes a little something like this:

random Malagasy: “Are you Chinese?”
me: “No, I’m American.”
random Malagasy: “So you speak Chinese?”

It is somewhat frustrating to be denied your identity from the start. Also frustrating is the fact that I’m afraid to do kickboxing to stay in shape (one of my favorite workouts back home), fearing that it will be mistaken for kung fu and then no one will ever believe that I’m American. All kidding aside, not looking like a “typical” American has provided me with great opportunities to explain what America is like to people here in Madagascar. Many people are very surprised to learn that there are many different types of people in America and eager to learn more. And I am more than willing to share.